


One Shot: The Things I Never Made

by StabbySewing



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Darkspawn, Death, F/M, Grey Wardens, One Shot, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Series, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StabbySewing/pseuds/StabbySewing
Summary: Post-Trespasser, Thom Rainier, formerly known as Blackwall, joins the Wardens and hears the calling.





	

She cried the day he heard the calling.

He had been pulling up fish from the line he had set out the night before and dropped it in surprise. He hadn't been feeling right for a few days, and at that moment he knew that it was the darkspawn blood calling him to put an end to his wretched life.

Evelyn, former Inquisitor and his love, came straight to his side when it happened. One look at his face and she knew. She had thought of little but this day since Thom had made the decision to join the Wardens, though she never spoke of it. He could see how the worry had worn her down.

"You are a stupid, foolish man!" she had screamed at him when he'd told her his plans. It had been almost a year since the Inquisition had been disbanded. He and Evelyn had set up a cozy life in Fereldan. She could have gone back to her family in Ostwick, but chose to fade into anonymity instead. They lived off the food they caught and grew and spent most of their days enjoying each other's company. They were happy enough, but both had begun to get antsy, wanting variance from the simple life they were leading.

She was always a woman destined for greater things than a domestic life could provide and Thom couldn't shake the feeling that he still had a debt to pay.

"Do you know why I didn't give you to the Wardens after Orlais?" she continued, slamming her fist on the table and raising her other arm, the one amputated to the elbow, above her head."Because you don't need to be a Warden to do the good you seek. All you'll manage to do is get yourself killed. You aren't young man anymore. Even if you survive the joining, you'll only have a couple years left."

She hadn't said it to hurt him. She was right. He was a foolish old man who hadn't let go of the dreams of his youth. The Wardens had seemed gleaming heros to him at a time when he had been no better than stinking filth. He'd idolized them, and still did. Even though the shiny facade of selfless heroism had been revealed to be false years ealier at Adamant. To join them would still be an honor. A valiant end to a shithole of a life.

She tried to remind him of the good he'd done as part of the Inquisition, of how he'd touched even her own life, but he was determined and so she let him follow his folly. He went alone to Weisshaupt, the only Warden outpost he knew. He had remembered the Wardens there had gone silent, and the air was tense with Maker-knows-what. No one would tell him if it was the Blight or a war within their own ranks they were on the precipice of, but they were happy enough to have him.

He survived the joining, though he now understood why the group was so secretive.  
Most prominently were the nightmares brought on by the darkspawn blood. They shook him at first, but he found, sadly, that he would rather dream of the archdemon than face his own demons. He also learned of the truth of Warden life and darkspawn. He realized his idiocy in trying to help the Inquisition as a fraud. It was lucky no one had died because of his ignorance.

His involvement in the Inquisition and in Corypheus' defeat more than proved his usefulness to the Wardens, though he got strange looks from others and was often asked why he had joined the group so late in life.

He spent a year on the road, mostly moving from town to town helping the Warden's rebuilding efforts. It was dull work, and he was rather disappointed, but it made sense. With no Blight, there was no need for fighting.

He and Evelyn wrote many letters to each other that year. After he left, she had gone to Kirkwall to visit Varric and Hawke, and ended up staying at the estate Varric had gifted her for many months. She enjoyed the change of scenery and even used her Ostwick connections to bring new goods into Kirkwall, a small part in helping the overall well-being of the city. He was happy to read about the change she was affecting and that she occupied her time with worthy goals.

Thom hadn't expected that she would remain with him during the time they were parted from each other, but, once again, she had assured him that he was who she wanted. He, of course, could never have wanted another.

When he was relieved from having to move around so much and found his jobs few enough that he could return home, she joined him there immediately. They fell back into a steady routine with as much ease as before. Their year of adventure had sated their wanderlust and they were ready to settle down again.

But he knew the next time Evelyn was ready to take up travels, he wouldn't be there to join her. As much as she had disagreed with his decision before his joining, she never once mentioned it or the foreboding calling when returned. Still, she knew what was coming and stayed by his side almost every waking moment.

They'd had a single year together until the day he heard the song and dropped the fish. He hadn't thought much about it since coming back home, but as the song became less melodic and more persistent, he became afraid. Still the coward, he wished he'd had more time.

But even the strongest of men couldn't ignore the calling.

During their last night together, as they lay naked in the bed, he admitted his fear of leaving her and wondered if he had done enough in life.

She could have told him that this had been his choice. He deserved no less, now that he was beginning to realize the deeper implications of his decisions. Instead, she reminded him that he was going to die having lived a life serving a greater purpose - a self-sacrificing life lived to improve the wellness of others.

"You are redeemed, Thom. And now it's time for you to go to the Maker's side." she whispered quietly in his ear as they both fell asleep.

She didn't cry the day he left.

In the end, he chose to go to enter the Deep Roads through Valammar. It was near his former home in the Hinterlands, but more importantly, it was the closest Deep Roads entrance to the place where he'd first met Evelyn.

When he first wandered through the depths of dank caves, the darkspawn had come easily. So easily, he almost thought he'd make it out alive, find the end of the Deep Roads, and be home within the week. But, as he moved deeper, following the call of the song that was growing louder still, there were more blighted creatures than moments of rest. He lost count of the number of darkspawn who had fallen under his sword. But, he was getting tired now and careless.

One false move and a blade pierced through his chest. He had practically walked into it. The pain seeped through his whole body, then turned into numbness. Too tired to fight any longer, he slumped against stone. The song was becoming quieter now and he didn't care to remember it. He finally realized that as much as he'd tried to run from his name, he would die Thom Ranier. He had always been the sum of his actions and choices. There was a pang in his chest as he thought about his last choice. The one to leave Evelyn while he died from some delusion of redemption.

In trying to do right by Gordon Blackwall, he had failed her. Thom's name would end in regret.

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of her, trying to retain the memory of her smile right before their first kiss. The first, but not only time, she had assured him that he was who she wanted. He thought of how her face had fallen when she saw him on the gallows in Orlais. Then of the look of complete love the day she had forgiven him for his despicable past. He remembered the way her brown hair spread over his chest, the last time they'd made love when she had spread kisses all the way down his body. As his vision faded, he thought of her scent. The feeling of warmth on his skin when they used to travel together and she would slip her hand through his. She had loved him selflessly, best, and last.

He grasped the sword laying next to him, a poor and cold substitute for his love, and found that he did not have the strength to hold it. He was alone, speared on the end of a darkspawn blade, and instead of the relief he thought he'd feel, he was afraid. He thought of his selfishness even in the face of her devotion. She had seen the good in him and deemed it enough. He, however, couldn't face the risk of having to live up to the standard of being the hero she had thought him to be and failing.

He managed one last thought before the cold and darkness took him. Though he'd never have one, he envisioned Evelyn crying over a grave. The tombstone read:

Thom Rainier: Himself

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I was very eager to get this out, so I'll probably be reading over it and making edits over the next few days.
> 
> I always appreciate any feedback and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you want, check out my tumblr: stabby-sewing.tumblr.com


End file.
